“While he uttered this declaration, the tears trickled down his cheeks, and he seemed overwhelmed with the keenest sorrow and mortification; so it may be easily conceived what were the impressions of my grief, reinforced with the affliction of a father whom I dearly loved, and the consciousness of being the cause of all his disquiet! I was struck dumb with remorse and woe; and, when I recovered the use of speech, I told him how sensible I was of his great goodness and humanity, and owned how little I deserved his favour and affection; that the sense of my own unworthiness was one cause of my present distraction; for such was the condition of my fate, that I must either see S— or die. I said, though I could not expect his forgiveness, I was surely worthy of his compassion; that nothing but the most irresistible passion could have misled me at first from my duty, or tempted me to incur the least degree of his displeasure; that the same fatal influence still prevailed, and would, in all probability, continue to the grave, which was the only abode in which I hoped for peace.
“While I expressed myself in this manner, my dear good father wept with the most tender sympathy, and, saying I might do as I pleased, for he had done with me, quitted the room, leaving me to the cruel sensations of my own heart, which almost burst with anguish, upbraiding me with a fault which I could not help committing. I immediately hired a chariot and six, and would have set out by myself, had not my father's affection, which all my errors could not efface, provided an attendant. He saw me quite delirious and desperate; and therefore engaged a relation of my own to accompany and take care of me in this rash expedition.
“During this journey, which lasted two days, I felt no remission of grief and anxiety, but underwent the most intolerable sorrow and suspense. At last we arrived at a little house called the Hut, on Salisbury Plain, where, in the most frantic agitation, I wrote a letter to S—, describing the miserable condition to which I was reduced by his unkindness, and desiring to see him, with the most earnest solicitations. This billet I committed to the care of my attendant, and laid strong injunctions upon him to tell Mr. S—, my injuries were so great, and my despair so violent, that, if he did not favour me with a visit, I would go to him, though at his sister's house, where he then was.
“He received my message with great coldness, and told my friend, that, if I would return to London without insisting upon the interview I demanded, he would, in a little time, follow me to town, and everything should be amicably adjusted; but when the messenger assured him, that I was too much transported with grief to hear of such a proposal, he consented to meet me in the middle of Salisbury Plain, that we might avoid all observation. And though I was little able to walk, I set out for the place of assignation, my companion following at a small distance.
“When I saw him leading his horse down the hill, I collected all my fortitude, and advanced to him with all the speed I could exert; but when I made an effort to speak, my tongue denied its office, and so lively was the expression of unutterable sorrow in my countenance, that his heart, hard as it was, melted at the sight of my sufferings, which he well knew proceeded from the sincerity of my love. At length I recovered the use of speech enough to tell him, that I was come to take my leave; and, when I would have proceeded, my voice failed me again. But, after a considerable pause, I found means, with great difficulty, to let him know how sensible I was of my own incapacity to retrieve his lost affections; but that I was willing, if possible, to retain his esteem, of which could I be assured, I would endeavour to compose myself; that I was determined to leave the kingdom, because I could not bear the sight of those places where we had been so happy in our mutual love; and that, till my departure, I hoped he would visit me sometimes, that I might, by degrees, wean myself from his company; for I should not be able to survive the shock of being deprived of him all at once.
“This address may seem very humble to an unconcerned observer; but love will tame the proudest disposition, as plainly appeared in my case; for I had naturally as much spirit, or more, than the generality of people have. Mr. S— was so much confounded at the manner of my behaviour, that he scarce knew what answer to make; for, as he afterwards owned, he expected to hear himself upbraided; but he was not proof against my tenderness. After some hesitation, he said, he never meant to forsake me entirely, that his affection was still unimpaired, and that he would follow me directly to London. I imposed upon myself, and believed what he said, because I could not bear to think of parting with him for ever, and returned to town in a more tranquil state of mind than that in which I had left my father, though my heart was far from being at ease; my fears being ingenious enough to foresee, that I should never be able to overcome his indifference.
“I took lodgings in Mount-street, and my maid having disposed of herself in marriage, hired another, who supplied her place very much to my satisfaction. She was a good girl, had a particular attachment to me, and for many years, during which she lived in my service, was indefatigably assiduous in contributing to my ease, or rather in alleviating my affliction. For, though S— came up to town according to promise, and renewed a sort of correspondence with me for the space of five months, his complaisance would extend no farther; and he gave me to understand, that he had determined to go abroad with Mr. V—; whom he accordingly accompanied in his envoying to D—.
“I understood the real cause of this expedition, which, notwithstanding his oaths and protestations of unabated love and regard, I construed into a palpable mark of dislike and disrespect; nor could the repeated assurances I received from him in letters mitigate the anguish and mortification that preyed upon my heart. I therefore gave up all hopes of recovering the happiness I had lost. I told him on the eve of his departure, that he might exercise his gallantry a great while, before he would meet with my fellow, in point of sincerity and love; for I would rather have been a servant in his house, with the privilege of seeing him, than the queen of England debarred of that pleasure.
“When he took his leave, and went down-stairs, I shrunk at every step he made, as if a new wound had been inflicted upon me and when I heard the door shut behind him, my heart died within me. I had the satisfaction to hear afterwards, he lamented the loss of me prodigiously, and that he had never been so happy since. I sat down to write a letter, in which I forgave his indifference, because I knew the affections are altogether involuntary, and wished him all the happiness he deserved. I then walked up and down the room in the most restless anxiety, was put to bed by my maid, rose at six, mounted my horse and rode forty miles, in order to fatigue myself that I might next night enjoy some repose. This exercise I daily underwent for months together; and, when it did not answer my purpose, I used to walk round Hyde-park in the evening, when the place was quite solitary and unvisited by any other human creature.
“In the course of this melancholy perambulation, I was one day accosted by a very great man, who, after the first salutation, asked whether or not my intercourse with S— was at an end, and if I had any allowance from my husband. To the first of these questions I replied in the affirmative; and to the last answered, that my lord did not allow me a great deal; indeed, I might have truly said nothing at all; but I was too proud to own my indigence. He then expressed his wonder, how one like me, who had been used to splendour and affluence from my cradle, could make shift to live in my present narrow circumstances; and, when I told him that I could make a very good shift, so I had peace, he seemed to lament my situation, and very kindly invited me to sup with his wife at his house. I accepted the invitation, without any apprehension of the consequence; and, when I went to the place, was introduced into an apartment magnificently lighted up, I suppose, for my reception.